


Yes, Mr. Smith

by StarkWhiteSilence



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Biting, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panty Kink, Prostitution, Rimming, Spanking, escort!armin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkWhiteSilence/pseuds/StarkWhiteSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many zeros.</p><p>Armin blinked at his bank account once more.</p><p>"All of this for one night of sex?" He whispers to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.
> 
> So much fucking anal.
> 
> Blonde babes
> 
> Comment/Kudos if you digged my version of my favorite ship known to man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note the tag update. Asphyxiation is restricting one's breathing i.e choking, gagging, breathing denial etc.

“You know you can back out any moment, correct? Mr. Smith can be overbearing but he won’t ever force you into something you don’t want,” Petra says, her small black heels clicking on the marble floors. I swallow thickly and shake my head with a forced smile.

“No no, I know what I’m getting into,” I say with a chuckle, “I’ve read up on Mr. Smith's preferences and have been preparing for this appointment for the past two weeks.” The blonde woman nods her head, the light perfectly reflecting the strawberry tint to her locks. I bite the inside of my cheek as a flare of jealousy washes through me. A woman that beautiful never has to work for her looks. She probably just woke up like that with rosy cheeks, plump lips and thick eyelashes. I, on the other hand, slather myself in moisturizer every night, stay out of the sun like a vampire, use the most expensive make up known to man and take hours on my hair to achieve presentable. I know I am attractive, but I’m still ordinary even after all my work. Frustrating is a bit of an understatement.

Petra smiles over her shoulder as she leads me into a small private elevator. The golden gates close around us as she presses the 7 for the top floor. I lean back against the wall behind me and smooth down my deep blue t-shirt and slim fit jeans with slightly trembling hands. I decided to wear something light and casual for this appointment and yet under my simple clothes, I have the entire outfit I was told to wear snug against my body.

This of course wasn’t the first time I was told what to wear to an appointment. Actually, most clients give me some kind of simple description but a select few tell me in great detail what to wear. And then there are people like Erwin Smith who send me the entire outfit in multiple colors with a simple note of ‘choose what compliments you the best’. I decided on the darker blue with white lace trim set since the deep contrast was perfect against my complexion.

Some of my clients are into a simple dinner or a public appearance as an actual escort while some expect both the escorting and the sex. And then there was men like Mr. Smith who cut to the chase and tell me exactly what he wants and expects from the entire appointment and never once is escorting mentioned. I usually prefer the escorting, but the sex raked in way too much money to turn down.  Usually the escorting earns me $100 an hour and the sex is $500 an hour and $1500 a night (escorting not included). I tried telling this to Mr. Smith only to have him curtly cut me off and inform me I would be staying the entire night and would earn five grand in cash.

Needless to say, my stuttering acceptance of the appointment was met with a deep, gut clenching chuckle as Mr. Smith told me the time and place before hanging up. I had of course done some research into his past, as well as his public and private life. As expected there wasn’t much to know other than he is a successful billionaire for the famous company, Survey and CO, and he has never been married nor seen in public with anyone of any gender. One thing that was left out was his confirmed sexuality. Of course people hypothesized the billionaire was gay, but his private life was elusive and no one could back up their allegations.

Petra stood a little ways away from me as the elevator dinged, signalling our arrival. She pressed her ID card to a red light inside the door which opened with a ding as the the light changed to green. We both step out into a large spacious room of hard wood floors and walls of windows. I struggle to keep my jaw off the floor as I take in the huge lavishly furnished room.

“Mr. Smith, Mr. Arlert is here to see you.” She calls from her place to my right in front of the still open elevator.

We’re both met with silence except for the quiet tapping of approaching feet. Slowly, the figure crosses the room until he is standing directly in front of me with a smile.

“Thank you, Petra, you’re dismissed for the night. Make sure Armin’s taxi is here exactly at 9 o'clock, please,” he says, never taking his eyes off me as he speaks. I hear a quiet mumble beside me followed by retreating clicks of heels, but none of that matters as my eyes are met with his startling blue-- mine analyzing and his calculating.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Armin,” he says with a nice smile and an outstretched hand. I lift my trembling hand to him  and smile. His gigantic hand swallows my much smaller one whole, the roughness of his hands contrary with his line of work. I am quite surprised I didn’t break down and pass out. That was another thing my research brought up about the reclusive 36 year old: the fact he looks like a Greek god that stepped out of ancient painting and donned a perfectly tailored [Armani](http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=181465841) suit. His broad shoulders and muscular arms strained mouthwateringly against the expensive fabric of his suit and his strong facial features made my head swim.

“Likewise, Mr. Smith,” I say with my staple small smile despite my mental fucking of the man in front of me. His face shows no emotion despite his smile and I can tell he’s thinking about something deeply.

“Please, please, we haven’t entered the scene, so call me Erwin,” he says, dropping my hand. I nod and amend it with a quiet, “Alright, Erwin.”

This earns me another dazzling smile before he turns around and begins walking away. “Follow me and I’ll show you around. If all goes well tonight, you may be returning so I may as well show you around before we get started,” he calls over his shoulder. The man takes long strides across what I take as a spacious living room before he takes me around the corner through a sizable kitchen. The heavy duty cooking ware gleams, the chrome-like metal beautifully shining without any kind of streak. The entire kitchen is easily half the size of my entire condo.

“Usually, Levi, my housekeeper/chef,  would be here cooking, but he has the night off. He’ll be here in the morning, so you may meet him then. But then again, he isn’t sociable and may not be all that friendly, but he’ll make a wonderful breakfast for you if you ask. He will also have your clothes cleaned and folded on the bathroom sink when you wake up. He will make you shower, so you may as well wake up and do that immediately.” I nod at the information and file it away for later. Erwin seems like a man to do things meaningfully, so if he takes the time to mention it, it’s probably worth remembering.

The next few rooms are equally up to date and large. A media room that seems untouched, a small gym (if you could even call that small), a meditation room that has a small space with instruments and other musical items stocked away there, and another room with leather couches and a large electronic board for what I presume to be a meeting room. He then takes me down a hallway and stops in front of door painted a soft baby blue.

“This is the room you will be sleeping in tonight. It has a bed, closet, dresser, TV, and a private bathroom. After our scene, you can go straight in here to sleep,” he tells me. I nod my head and don’t comment on the fact we won’t be sleeping together. I’m used to clients making me sleep in separate rooms or totally kicking me out after we’re done. No need in asking for a meaningless explanation.

Erwin smiles at me once more before leading me rest of the way down the hall. We pass two rooms without stopping and I don’t ask about them. It’s none of my business. Finally, at the very end of the hallway, we stop at door. It’s painted in a deep, dark, glossy grey and the handle is a sleek shining black.

Erwin’s turns to me with a startlingly serious face. He looks me in the eye as he speaks and I find myself slightly scared at the severity of his expression. “Armin, this is my Leather Room. This is where we will be spending most of our time when you come to visit. Once I show you this room, I need you to fully understand that you can end this at any moment and I won’t be angry. I’ll even still pay you if you need to back out. BDSM is based near solely on consent and I need to know you are all for this.”  My mouth salivates as his words truly sink in.

I have participated in numerous BDSM scenes due to my line of work, and I found myself enjoying them a lot as we did them. They take a lot of mental preparation, but once immersed it becomes natural for me. I have even dom’d for a few men who get off on someone smaller than them taking control, but I never enjoyed being in control as much as I enjoyed totally giving up my own. But I knew, with Erwin, nothing is ever half-assed. If he decided to do something, he would do it to the fullest and it would come out exactly how he wanted or he’d do it again until it did. The thought of him taking control of me with that sort of resolve made me more excited than I had ever been in my entire life.

I clear my throat, and look back at Erwin with my own resolve. “I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to this appointment. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think I could handle it and I already signed the consent and confidentiality form Petra gave me. I’m a professional Erwin, I know my limits.” Erwin stares at me for a few moment before he breaks out into a jaw cracking grin. The man has a fucking dimple.

“I knew I picked the right one with you, Armin, I really did. Your soft, innocent appearance is alluring in itself, but then you open that filthy little mouth of yours and you show your true sexual self. Your smart, calculating, and so, so perfect.” Erwin raises a hand and places it over his eyes as he leans back, the grin still in place.

“Please tell me you remembered to wear what I asked,” He says through his hand. I bite back a smile of my own at the man's theatrics.

I can’t explain the thrill that runs through my veins as I say, “Yes, sir.”

It was like a switch being flipped as his hand falls from his face and I’m met with the most heated, sexual, predatory eyes that I’ve ever seen. “You may not be needing that taxi tomorrow morning if you keep it up.” With a thick swallow, I watch him turn around and open the door to the Leather Room.

And I can see exactly where the name came from.

****  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More build up for lots of sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UNDER 2,000 WORDS AND ONE CHAPTER
> 
> Comment/Kudos if you agree I'm absolute shit. Or if you think this fic isn't absolute shit. 
> 
> Jesus I need sleep.

The smell of leather in itself has always been a weird turn on for me. The musky scent makes me clench my thighs together for no good reason, and I think as I gaze at the room from my spot in the threshold, I’ve found the answer why. Walls upon walls upon walls of different leather instruments, ranging from whips coiled tight to floggers, dangle from their respective places. I feel my hands clench by my sides as I take the first few steps into the room.

 

To the far left wall is a gigantic bed, nearly double the size of a king size bed. The sheets are a deep red, the color thick and imposing and sensual. I let my eyes flutter over to the wall across from the bed and find myself looking at a mirror. In fact, the entire room is one big mirror, each and every wall a mirror, and a quick look up confirms the ceiling is a mirror as well.  The only part of the room that isn’t a mirror is the hardwood flooring. The toys that fill the room are all reflected in the mirrored wall across from them, making the already large room double in size. I can tell from here that the different instruments and toys hand from hanging hooks in the mirrors.

 

I can’t understand how simply looking at the room made my stomach clench but it did and I loved it. 

 

“I have been perfecting this room for the past three years; I’m always adding something or taking something out, but as you stand in the middle of it with your flushed cheeks and slight panting, I don’t think I need to touch anything else,” Erwin says from somewhere behind me. I can’t force myself to turn around; I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I saw his eyes. Just the sound of his voice makes my body break out into goose flesh, god only know what my reaction would be to his eyes portraying what he wanted to do to me.

I struggle to find my voice, “Uhm,” I clear my throat. I need to get ahold of myself. I mean, yeah we’re about to have sex, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a job to fulfill.  “What are your rules? Safe words, hard limits, what do you want me to call you during scenes?”

 

I work up the might to turn around once I get my heart rate under control. Erwin’s face seems to have sobered up at my questions and he pauses for a moment. 

 

“Well, I think since this is our first scene, simple safe words will be best. That being said, yellow is slow down or pause and red is stop altogether. I usually see it as if you need to use red, the scene will end completely for the night and I’ll spend the rest of the night in aftercare unless you feel the need to go home. As for hard limits, I think I mentioned I will be the dom for our scenes. No kissing on the mouth unless I initiate it. Only speak when you are spoken to and you will do as I say unless you want to be punished. You will refer to me as ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Smith’ during scenes. I don’t care which, but those are the only two acceptable.” I watch silently as he pauses. “I believe that’s it. Since it is our first scene together, I don’t think I’ll be doing anything too drastic. What are your hard limits?”

 

I knew this was coming. I had a few guys in the past who actually asked what I was comfortable with and what I wasn’t. “I’m pretty open to anything. The only thing I ask is you don’t mark me where I can’t apply foundation or hide with a turtleneck. And no blood. I am really good with pain, but I had a bad experience with a cane once so I’m open for that but hesitant.” I suppress a shudder as I remember the feeling of my own warm blood running down my ass as the cane broke the smooth skin there. The man who had been doing it freaked the fuck out and made me clean myself up and leave; he didn’t help at all. I had one of my other friends in my line of work check to see if I’d need any stitches but the cuts weren’t that deep. Eren had wanted to kill the bastard who did it to me. 

 

I don’t realize Erwin hasn’t replied until I looked up. His face is perfectly clear of emotion save for the slight twitch in his eyebrow. I swallow thickly and wonder if I said something wrong until he finally speaks. “If you don’t mind me asking, but did the cane incident scar?” 

Ah. So that’s what made him go silent. I should have been expecting this really. Ever since the slices in my flesh healed, multiple pale silver scars lined my ass. Many of the men I worked for after made comments on how unsightly the scars were and some even went so far as to ask me to put my underwear back on while we fucked. It probably ruined my “innocent” persona.They are by far my biggest insecurity besides my freckles and I hate talking about them. But my clients didn’t pay me to talk about my baggage. “Yes, there are a few raised scars on me from where the cane cut me.”

 

I watch in silence as his nostrils flare and his eyes narrow. He looks livid. But just as fast as the expression came, it was gone. But when he speaks, his emotion shows through the way his words are ground out. “That’s unfortunate. If the man didn’t know how to fucking use it, he should have never gone near you with it. I apologize on behalf of the community. It’s people like him that fuck it up for everyone else.” I blink and shake my head. I open my mouth to tell him it is in no way his fault when he cuts me off. 

 

“I wasn’t planning on using the cane for this session and I won’t ever if that’s what you want. But to change the subject, let me as for your kinks.”

 

I furrow my brows in confusion, “Kinks?”

 

Erwin’s eyelids droop. “Please tell me now if this is you portraying an innocent facade and that you really know what kinks are.”

 

“No, no,” I burst out. “I know what kinks are I just, wow, I just never thought about them? And I’ve especially never had someone ask about them!” 

 

Erwin face remains pensive before he shakes his head. “Alright, I’m surprised someone in your field wouldn’t have at least entertained fantasies, but I suppose I can understand why you wouldn’t. But that just gives me an opening to ask you in detail about them.” With grace that reminds me of a large lion, expelling sexual waves and obscene strength, Erwin walks the few steps between us. With his large hands, he grips my shoulders and spins me around, the warmth of hands searing me through my shirt.

 

Suddenly, his mouth is up against the shell of my ear and his breath is fanning my cheek. “So tell me Armin, what makes your heart beat fast? What makes those soft thighs clench and those beautiful eyes roll back in your head?” He asks. My knees shake in an attempt to keep me upright and my breathing definitely has picked up speed.

 

“Uh, I-I don’t know,” I sigh as his hands begin to slightly roll the muscles on my shoulders. His resulting chuckle shoots down to a heated pool in my belly. 

 

“I think we both know there’s something that gets to you. Is it biting?” He asks right before his teeth catch the tip of my ear right next to the silver stud of my cartilage piercing. My breath stutters and slight gasp wiggles past my parted lips. “I take that as a yes?” I am only able to give him a slight nod.

 

“That’s good, that’s really good,” he says and the small praise goes straight under my belt. “So how about dirty talk over all, hm? Do you want me to tell you every little detail of what I want to do to you? About how I want to bend your smooth little body over that table and slide into your tight heat until your back bows and your vision whites out and that pretty little mouth is just  _ screaming _ for more? Or maybe you want me to praise you? Tell you how I love the way you sound, the way you taste, the way feel? Talk to me, Armin, tell me yes.” My eyes shut tight and a tight keening whine floats out of my mouth. But that doesn’t seem like enough for Erwin.

 

“No, Armin, I asked for a yes or no. Answer me properly.” Through the haze that has filled my brain quite steadily, I notice the way his voice dropped an octave with that command and I’d be lying if it didn’t go straight to my cock.

 

“Yes, god yes,” I breathe. I need this to start, I need to feel more than just his breath more than his hands. I need  _ more _ .

 

“Yes, what Armin?”

 

I swallow a lump. “Yes, sir.” 

 

A low hum. “Very good Armin.” God, I love the way he says my name. I don’t know if it’s his slight unplaceable accent that makes him pronounce every letter, but it does something to me deep and I can’t get enough of it.  Suddenly the heat of him against my back is gone and I watch in dazed confusion as he walk past me and further into the room.

 

“Alright. I noticed that you have make up and before we start, I’m going to need you to go wipe it off. I forgot to tell you not to wear any before you came so I won’t punish you for wearing it, but from here on out don’t come with any on. The bathroom is directly to your right through the door.” 

 

_ Oh god. _

 

My mind scrambles. I can’t take off my make up, he’ll see my freckles. No one ever sees my face bare, only Eren and he only saw it on accident. I hate my freckles. When I was younger, I was tormented for my feminine appearance and I began to view my freckles as just another imperfection on my imperfect body. I swallow thickly and begin to open my mouth to protest when he speaks again. 

 

“I’m sorry, was I unclear? I told you to go wipe off your face Armin and I don’t like to repeat myself. Is there a problem?” God, that tone. He sounded so calm, but just below the smooth surface was a bite of annoyance. It gets to me and I shake my head. 

 

“No there isn’t sir, I apologize.” And with that, I quickly make my way to the door. When I first had entered the room, I hadn’t notices the large dark wood door off to the right. I step inside and shut the door softly. With a deep breath, I place my hands against the sink and put all of my weight on the granite. 

 

I know I don’t have much time, so I school my breathing and reach a shaking hand for the cabinet behind the toilet. Sure enough, inside is a pile of black rags and various other toiletries. I grab a rag and shut the cabinet door. Turning the water on hot, I dampen the rag. The water warms my freezing fingers and I sigh. I begin the daunting act of dragging the damp rag over my face, using force to scrub away the eyeliner, mascara, foundation, and soft pink lip gloss. I hardly ever did dramatic makeup, usually just the simple basics. Just enough to make my lips shine, my eyes large and my skin freckle free. 

 

Finally, I deem myself makeup free and wring out the rag before tossing it into the empty hamper. I avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t need to look at myself to know my skin is red and blotchy from my rubbing and my freckles are there, dusting my cheeks and ruining my confidence.

 

I step back into the room and note the soft tones of music playing from nowhere and everywhere. It’s much too low to pick up on the song, but I hear the heavy beat and the low hum of a voice. Erwin stands off by the bed, his back to me as he fiddles with something in his hands.

 

“Remove all your clothes save for what I gave you and go kneel by the door when you’re done. And please be punctual about it,” He says. I move quickly, tugging the shirt over my head and quickly folding it. I kick off my shoes and socks and place them by the door by my shirt. Next, I wiggle out of my jeans and fold those as well.

 

The cold air bites at my skin and I hiss as my knees hit the cold hardwood floor. From my position, I can see myself in all of my partial nude glory in all of the mirrors filling the room. Navy blue lace panties cling to my hips and stick to the plump curve of my ass. The pretty, pure white trim flutters against the cleft of my ass and the taut material spreads tight against my prominent front. The matching garter belts stretch across my smooth, creamy skin and connect to the thigh-high see-through stockings. The soft white trim contrasts perfectly with the deep blue and my choice was perfect.

 

My eyes connect with pale blue in the mirror. I hadn’t noticed Erwin walk up behind me while I studied myself and I curse the shot of lust that shoots through my gut as I identify the pure hunger in his gaze. My mouth is suddenly devoid of all moisture and my heart beats against my ribcage like a frightened bird.

 

Slowly, Erwin approaches me, and neither of us dare and break eye contact in the mirror. I watch as he stops directly behind me, my small form compact and tiny at his feet. I can’t help the feeling of rightness I get as I look at myself at his feet, at his command, at his mercy.

 

“Has anyone told you how perfect you are, Armin?” He asks seriously, like he hadn’t just asked such a silly question. I almost smile, but something in his expression tells me my amusement wouldn’t be met with positivity.

 

“No, sir,” I choose instead, my voice annoyingly small.

 

His expression darkens and I fear I have said the wrong thing. “You should hear it everyday, Armin. No one should be allowed to touch if they don’t see how painstakingly perfect you are.” Suddenly, there’s a large warm hand gripping my chin, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror. Erwin squats behind me, his face near my ear once again. 

 

“Look at yourself, Armin. Face the mirror fully and spread your legs for me.” He commands while removing his hand from my face, the words ripping a violent shudder from me. I scramble to do as he says, and once I do, his hand is back on my chin.

 

“Now really look at yourself,” he continues, “really look at yourself. From the flush on your cheeks and neck to the smooth expanse of cream that makes up your legs. Look at how hard and pert your nipples are to the cold and the way they rise and fall with your panting. Look at that slight bulge in the panties showing your excitement. Are you looking?” 

 

I am. My eyes follow his verbal treasure map across my body and my mouth is suddenly too dry for talking. I force myself to nod, but my mind is elsewhere and everywhere. We’ve hardly started and I’m already incoherent.

“Good, good,” he praises. “So perfect for me, Armin. Never wear make up in my presence again-- your freckles are much too perfect for you to try and hide them from me.” This pulls me from my haze. No one talks about my freckles, no one knows about my freckles, no one likes my freckles. But Erwin talks about my freckles, Erwin knows about my freckles,  _ Erwin likes my freckles. _ If we hadn’t already agreed to fuck, I’d be on top of him in this moment.

“What do you want me to do, Armin? I want to know what you want. Tell me.” Erwin ends this with a curt nibble on my lobe and I gasp in his embrace.

“Anything you’ll give me. Everything you’ll give me,  _ god, _ just all of it. I want all of it. I want to make you happy, I want to hear you praise me and touch me and just, I  _ need  _ you.  _ Please, sir. _ ” I whine. I have no idea where these words come from, but they’re the truth and I do need these things and I need to stop thinking, Jesus Christ, I can’t think.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he breathes. “Fuck, that’s good, Armin, I’m proud of you. And I’ll give you whatever you want, anything you want. You deserve it Armin and you’re going to get it.”

At this, he stands, taking his heat with with him. “Stand and walk over to the small strap table. I want you on your knees and elbows and your thighs shouldn’t be touching.” He walks away and leaves me to his command. 

I stand on wobbling legs and stumble over to the table. It honestly looks like a slightly wider coffee table, only the top is cushioned leather and there are various leather straps and buckles on the side. I swallow my embarrassment as I get into position, my thighs spread and showing all of me. The panties do little to hide my erection and I can’t find it in me to care. I hang my head between my shoulders, my blond hair falling past my face and dangling to the leather below. 

I hear Erwin grabbing things and I fight the urge to look over my shoulder. Soon enough I can hear him approaching me. And then all noise ceases. The low hum of the music is gone and there are no noises behind me. I still don’t turn around and I definitely don’t dare to move from my position. The silence stretches for a few moments before I hear a sigh.

“I was hoping you’d break the position and I’d be allowed to spank that little ass until it was bright red,” he says from somewhere behind me. I shudder as one of his big hands come to cup my ass that’s currently in the air. “I’m pleased though, very good boy.” I smile at the leather below me at the praise. 

“Alright, Armin, this scene has officially started. I will be strapping you down at this time, so tell me as a check up what the safe words are.” I feel his hand hands fall to to my ankle. Then, the feeling of smooth leather wraps around the joint and I listen to the clank of the buckle.

“Yellow for slow down and red for stop, sir,” I say, hardly recognizing my own voice. He hums a praise and moves to the other buckles. Soon enough both of my ankles are bound down and the same for my wrists. In this position, to give release to the strain on my back, I arch my back a bit, tossing my ass even higher in the air. I hear Erwin’s breath shutter and soon two large hands on are each of my cheeks, kneading and spreading them above the panties.

“So perfect, Armin, so so perfect,” he breathes. A whine falls from my lips as I push back into his touch. “God, I’m so lucky to have found you,” he says. I can only pant and think about how much I can’t wait to have him in me. God, I need him in me.

“Well, Armin, why don’t we get to the fun, hm?” He asks, placing a few kisses across my lower back directly above the hem of the underwear. I nod causing my hair to bounce. “Very well, Armin, I’m about to show you just what I meant when I said I’d give you everything you wanted.” And once his rough palm snaps against my left ass cheek, pulling a keen moan from my mouth, I knew he wasn’t a man of false promises.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More filth, but do you really need me to tell you that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT GOD GUYS I'M SORRY??
> 
> S/O to my best friend Toni for editing this so any mistakes are on hers af
> 
> comment/kudos/love me please I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS

_Fuck._ I moan as the sting of the slap settles into my cock. Before my brain can catch up, another smack is delivered swiftly to my other cheek and the resulting whimper is so unlike me it’s thrilling. The lustrous glide of hands drag over my blazing mounds makes my panting pick up to an insurmountable degree.

“You’re perfect like this Armin, ass up and cherry red.” He says, his voice dripping in appreciation. “It’s such a pretty color coupled with the panties. I wish you could see it,” Erwin says above me, his hands still rubbing soothing circles over my rear. I don’t know what to reply with, never having received such honest praise. So I, as to not make a complete ass of myself, opt for a low moan and a nod of my head.

Suddenly, there’s a fleeting fire of sharp slaps against my stinging ass. I toss my head back and deeply inhale through my teeth, my throat scrambling to swallow the large amount of spit produced in my mouth. My cock twitches with each strike and I don’t try to smother the keening escaping my throat.

But just as soon as the smacks began, they stop and are once again followed with soothing rubs. “I must say Armin, I didn’t think you’d be so stentorian,” He says off handedly, his roughened fingers occasionally brushing my hole. My resulting groan draws a chuckle from the man. “But I find the information exceedingly pleasing. It’s like you were made for this, made for my hands only. It’s very desirable, if I do say myself.”

Just as I start grow used to the hands on me, they’re removed. My wrists strain against the restraints and I find myself excited at the strong resistance. I listen as Erwin steps away from me before he’s right back behind me, his hand dipping below the panties. I suck in a breath as his fingers drag along the smooth valley between my ass, his fingers stopping just short of my entrance. I push my hips back just to get his fingers there, but they’re pulled back despite my protesting whine. _God why am I so fucking vocal_?

Erwin’s presence is still behind me but his hands aren’t on me. I shut my eyes and try to get my breathing to even out. I need to focus on something, anything, to get myself under control. For what feels like the millionth time tonight, I remind myself I am in fact a professional and I should be handling this much better. But his hands touch me just how I like and his deep voice says exactly what I want to hear. It's no wonder I'm an absolute mess for him.

Unexpectedly, the panties are ripped down to mid-thigh freeing my bobbing cock and ass but trapping my smooth balls in the soft fabric. I shudder at the rush of cold air on my damp cock and I throw my head back when I feel long thick fingers press directly over my asshole. "I wish I could freeze time. That I could keep your back arched all pretty like this forever, that I could keep your hot, pink hole pressed tight against my finger, fluttering and begging for my finger to reach deep.” My eyes slip close at the filthy words, each and every syllable going straight to my hard-on. “Do you want that Armin? Do you want my fingers in you?" Another full body shudder wrecks my body.

"Yes, god, yes," I moan out. I wait for his reply only to yelp at the sting of his hand smacking my ass.

"Yes what?" he growls. I swallow thickly and scramble to amend myself.

"Yes, sir. I'd like your fingers in me, sir."

This earns me a pleased hum, "Very well, since you asked so nicely.”

No amount of mental preparation could have set me up ready for the feeling of his thick index finger sliding slick and hot into me. I let out an embarrassing moan, my back making a perfect mouthwatering arch that was once practiced but now coming oh so naturally. His finger is so different from my own, so much thicker, so much rougher. I mewl and try to force myself further back on the digit only to have it slide out and slam back in. With just one finger, Erwin is yanking unknown noises from my throat and all I can do is thrust myself back on the finger. His other hand comes up to cup my the cheek he most recently smacked and I feel like I'm drowning in the feel of him.

“My, my, my Armin, if I didn't already know what you did for work I'd think you were a virgin with how tight you are. I mean, just with one finger your hungry little ass is sucking me in so nicely," he comments, his deep voice betraying just how much my ass is affecting him. I can't find the words to reply so I simply hang my head and wait. Soon enough, another finger enters the mix, both of them scissoring and stretching and curling to hit just the spot inside to make me see stars. I pant as he massages my walls, the wet beckon of his fingers and the lube coupled with the slight pain in my shoulders spell out the highest ascent to arousal I think I've ever reached in my life.

The third finger is the only one that pulls a bit of burn that does nothing but translates into heat pooling in my gut. My body reacts on its own, the poor thing thrusting back to get some kind of _more_ from the three fingers currently nestled inside. Erwin makes sure I'm fully and thoroughly stretched before he pulls his fingers out with a wet noise. I bite back a needy whine at the loss but soon enough something a bit thicker is pushing it's blunt head against the entrance.

A noise of surprise escapes my lips and I fight the urge to look back. _Is he about to fuck me already?_ But that thought is quickly dispelled as the object pushes past the tight ring of muscle and into my pliant body. It's much too cold to be a cock, and by the overall shape of the object and the way the flared end rests right against my stretched hole, I decide it must be some kind of plug. I bite back the disappointment at the fact it isn't Erwin's dick, but I quell it quickly when Erwin finally steps in front of me. With the short height of the table, I have to crane my neck back to look at him in the eye.

"How are you doing Armin, is anything hurting?" he asks. It's cute, I think through my mental fog, for a big serious guy like him to be asking a prostitute if a butt plug is too much. It kinda comical really. I bite back a grin as I shake my head.

"Nnhmm,” I slur out, my eyes trying and failing to focus on his form in front of me. I clear my throat and try again, “No sir, my shoulders are a bit sore but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Erwins hands trail up to my shoulders and gently rubs the joints. “Do you want to alter your position?”

I shake my head, my hair shimmering around me, “No, no, no, I’m good. Trust me, I can handle a bit of the burn.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” he says, his voice resolute. “I asked if you wanted to.”

This causes my eyes to flicker up to his. Cool cyan meets heated cerulean. I blink through the messy haze in my head. “I-I don’t uh, no. No, I don’t want to move.” I tack on a ‘sir’ for good measure. This earns me a soft smile and a hair pat. He murmurs something along the lines of ‘ _good boy’_ but I’m too wrapped up in the sensation of being praised and his soft petting to truly note it.

He continues his petting as my brain finally cools down a bit, my body getting used to the foreign object nested inside my hole. To give a tiny bit of release to my shoulders, I hunker down to press my face again the cool leather of the table. Absentmindedly, I look up and subsequently through his legs and my eyes meet my own in the mirror in front of me.

I totally forgot the mirrors in the room.

My eyes trace unrecognizable flushed cheeks, dazed eyes and bitten red lips. I look so...so _wrecked_.

Hesitantly I lick my lips and I shift my weight from one knee to another causing the plug to sharply press into my sweet spot. The most pathetic sounding whimper filters through my swollen lips. I can feel myself dripping with precome and the sensation sends shivers up my spine.

Erwin’s hand slowly slips around my head to grip my chin softly, tilting my head back. My eyes flutter up to his, my brain struggling to work.

“Is this too much for you, Armin?” His words shake the daze somewhat, the deep commanding sound too powerful to be ignored. I swallow hard and shake my head.

“No, sir, it isn’t too much,” I say through a heated breath. My elbows gives a bit of a protest as I shift my shoulders, but I block out the minor discomfort in favor of focusing my attention solely on the man in front of me.

My eyes flicker down his body and I realize for the first time that at some point while he was prepping me he must have removed his shirt. Tanned, taut skin pulls tight across his chest and the stomach, the muscles ridiculously defined and chiseled. Another unidentifiable noise filters from my throat as I take in his damn near perfect body.

“Please tell me if you need a break, I will not punish you in anyway.” Without removing my eyes from the perfect sight in front of me, I nod and mumble a _‘yes, sir’_.

He takes a few steps away from me before turning to grab something out of my view. “How are you with pain, Armin?’

I think for a moment, the action taking a bit more effort than I’d like. I’m not used to actually losing myself in my job. I mean, I’ve had clients who made me exceedingly pleased with the transaction but never had any of them made my mind melt, my body relax, and my voice flow so freely and genuine.

“Did you hear me?” He asks sharply. “I asked how do you like pain.” Pain’s never been an issue. No one has ever really asked for my pain limits but then again Erwin isn’t like any client I’ve ever had.

“I don’t know, I have a high pain tolerance if that’s what you’re asking.” I wet my lips. “As long as I don’t bruise or bleed I can usually handle it.” The thought of bleeding during a scene again made my stomach lurch. I shake my head, no. _This is a different client and a different scene._

Erwin grabs my chin once more to look into his eyes, his face so deathly serious, my already labored breath catches. My trembling elbows still as he leans down, his soft looking mouth meer breaths away from mine.

“I didn’t ask what you can handle, I asked what you like.” He murmurs intensely, his azure eyes flickering meaningfully between my own. No one’s ever-- they don’t-- what? I know my once lidded eyes are now impossibly wide.

“I-I like pain. I just don’t like breaking skin or excessive hits to the point of bruises.” I mumble, my eyes intensely locked with his. After a beat or two, he hums, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

“Alright. I am going to grab a few things. Is there any equipment you aren’t comfortable with or specifically don’t like?” He asks, walk a few paces over to my right, out of my line of sight.

I think hard about the question before meekly answering, “Canes and whips that break skin. I’m open to anything as long as I don’t bleed or excessively bruise, sir.”

Erwin steps in front of me once more, this time holding a small circular ring and a tube of what I can only assume is lube. Coming to stand directly in front of me, his hand slides casually into his pocket save for the hand holding the chunky ring.

My eyes flicker from the object to his eyes, “Sir?”

“Armin,” he says, his voice even, “Are you aware of what a cock ring is?” I look up at him for a moment before I nod, my blonde hair bouncing around my head and tickling my shoulder.

“Yes, sir. It’s an orgasm denial tool.”

He gives me a pleased hum before asking, “And is orgasm denial alright with you?”

I ponder for a moment before I nod again, “Yes, sir, it’s okay.” This earns me a dazzling smile before he once again disappears from sight to walk behind me. This time is different from when he prepped me due to the fact I am now aware of the mirror directly across from me. Keeping my eyes on his form as he walks behind me, I see him pop the cap of the lube. I’m unprepared as his hand leaves my sight between my legs.

Suddenly, with the most embarrassing yelp, I feel his warm hand grasp my dripping cock, the wet slide being it back to full hardness. My hips can’t back and forth into his hand, the plug in my ass rubbing deliciously against my prostate. My breathing has picked up dramatically, the air puffing through my gaping mouth. I struggle to keep my eyes open, and soon enough they collide with Erwin’s own. A small smirk plays at the corner of his lips as his other hand soon joins the other on my cock, both of them work to slide the ring up my cock.

The feeling of the tight, warmed rubbing ring inching up my dick to my balls nearly made my eyes roll back, the sensitivity of my dick unreal. A high pitch whine explodes from my mouth, my harsh breathing only jolting my cock more. Much too soon, the hands are removed from my member, Erwin taking the time to wipe them off with a white towel he grabbed from somewhere out of sight.

When Erwin once again steps in front of me, my hazy eyes fly to his unbuttoned pants, the plain black boxers now visible. I wet my dry lips and force out a choked moan at the near constant shifting of the plug.  I can see the prominent bulge of his cock straining against the black fabric, the view only teasing me. All I want is to feel the heavyweight of his cock against my tongue, to feel the head brushing the very back of my throat.

After a few more moments of silence, I glance up confused to see Erwin staring intensely down at me. His eyes have dilated all the more since I last looked, and the sight itself makes my already dry throat nearly crack. After a few moments of deliberation, I allow my eyes to flicker back down at the crotch in front of me. To show my intent, I teasingly lick my lips, the action a lot more sensual than I had expected.

“What do you want, Armin.” He asks, his voice sending the deepest shivers to wrack down my spine. I bite my lip and without even removing my eyes from the sight in front of me, I answer breathlessly.

“I want you in my mouth, sir.”

The sound that comes out of Erwin’s mouth could only be described as animalistic. His hand shoots out to grab my bottom jaw and forces my eyes up to his. His thumb brushes out to pull my bottom lip down to expose my white teeth and pink gums.

“Open.” He snaps, his voice the purest definition of command.

My jaw snaps open without a moment of hesitance, my tongue lolling out. I can’t take my eyes off of his hands pulling at the black fabric, even as saliva drips from my mouth to the leather and flood below.

After a pause, Erwin pulls the fabric down enough to allow his his cock to bob out, the sight making me all out choke. It was so fucking _thick,_ the entire curved organ easily eight inches in length. I could feel my heart beating, no pounding as he gives it a few choice strokes. I want it inside of me, whether fucking my mouth or _oh god,_ fucking my ass. I shift my hips to get the plug to move just a bit, the movement dizzying and oh so delicious.

“I am going to be fucking your mouth now, Armin. If you need me to stop or slow down at any moment, smack your hand on the table three times.” I just nod, my eyes and mind never leaving the cock inches from my face.

“Armin.” Erwin snaps, his voice using the commanding tone it gets when he’s angry. My eyes fly up to his, afraid of what I did wrong. “When I tell you something, I need you to answer me. I know it’s hard to concentrate when you’re floating around the edge of subspace but you need to pay attention, especially with something as serious as safewords. Now what did I just say?”

Working to swallow the spit in my mouth, I rasp, “If you need me to stop or pause, you want me to slap my hand on the table three times, sir.”

Erwin hums and grabs my chin once again, repeating his previous command. “Open your mouth.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the playlist I listen to when I write porn and prepare myself for hell.
> 
> http://8tracks.com/starkwhitesilence/oh-god-please-sir
> 
> Tumblr: Superkuroshitsuji
> 
> New Writing Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/starkwhitesilence/


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